


Whatever It Takes

by triciabelle



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triciabelle/pseuds/triciabelle
Summary: All Lara Jean ever wanted was to be number one in Peter’s life. She wanted him to put in effort, which is why she refuses to accept the heart locket after she and Peter break up. Or, in which Peter Kavinsky finally writes Lara Jean a love letter.
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky & Lara Jean Song-Covey, Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Kudos: 75





	Whatever It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> This is crossposted to ff.net, which you can find [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13497272/1/Whatever-It-Takes). Please let me know what you think!

Having this heart locket in my possession just doesn’t feel right. As John drives me home, I hold up my fist, the heart locket dangling from it. I examine the way it shines in the sunlight. Bright, and so full of hope, just like the way I felt with Peter. My heart drops to my stomach. I should’ve insisted that Peter keep it. We’re broken up now, and it’s not like I’m going to wear it anymore. What am I going to do with this? I don’t want to be reminded of what once was, of what could’ve been.

At a red light, John notices my fixation on the necklace. Boldly, he says, “You still love Peter.”

“Love him? Ha! I hate him.” I scrunch my face in disgust. 

“So do I,” John laughs. He looks at me with sincere eyes. “But you don’t mean that.”

“I so hate him.” I cross my arms over my chest and pout to prove my point. “He’s so smug and shit, thinks I’ll come running back to him. What makes him think it’ll be that easy? I trusted him and he won’t be honest with me.” I sigh. “If you didn’t come pick me up, do you really think he would’ve talked to me today?”

“You saw the way he looked at us after the USO party,” John replies. The light turns green. John presses on the gas pedal and the car jerks forward. “He’s jealous. He likes competition. It’s a guy thing.”

“Well, I’m not a prize to be won,” I say in a huff. I stare out the window as we turn into my neighborhood. “He can go back to Gen for all I care.”

“So you’re done with him?” John asks, hopeful. 

I slouch into my seat. I don’t reply. 

The house is empty when I get home. Daddy has a night shift and Kitty is at a friend’s house. Kitty didn’t want to hang out with her friends on my birthday, but I insisted it was okay. They have a science test to study for anyway. The house feels so big whenever I’m home alone. All I want to do is lock myself in my room to make it feel smaller.

Since I’m spending my birthday dinner alone, I decide to order Chinese food. Kung pao chicken and lo mein noodles are my go to. I eat in my bedroom and watch The Breakfast Club on my laptop. I really should be watching Sixteen Candles because of the occasion, but I don’t want to spend my night imagining what Peter would’ve done for me today if we were still together.

I’m startled by a knock on the window half an hour into the movie. Taking a deep breath, I press pause and untangle myself from my bed sheets, careful not to knock over my take-out food. 

“Chris, you scared me!” I say as I open the window. But it’s not Chris. It’s Peter fucking Kavinsky. Freshly showered and with an apologetic smile on his face. His hair is still wet, a damp curl stuck to his forehead. 

“Can I come in, please?” His voice is soft and husky.

I roll my eyes. “Only because you said please,” I reply. I plop on my bed and watch Peter crawl through the window. I stifle a laugh when he hits his head. He deserves it.

“Are you home alone on your birthday?” Peter gestures to the set up on my bed. He dons a serious expression.

I ignore his comment. “What do you want, Kavinsky?”

Peter sits at my desk and notices the snow globe John gave me earlier that day. He picks it up and gently shakes it before putting it back down. Much like the snow globe, my world has been shaken up.

“Hey, don’t break that!” I say defensively.

“Why, Covey?” Peter raises his brow. “Because John gave it to you? It’s pretty.” He watches the snow dance gracefully around the two skaters. “Do you even know how to skate?”

“Seriously, Peter, why are you here?” I can’t hide the annoyance in my voice. I just wanted to watch my movie and eat my food. I don’t need him ruining my day even more. On my birthday, no less.

“I just want to apologize for how things went down after school,” Peter says. He pauses, then sighs. “If you’re with John, just tell me.”

“We’re just hanging out,” I reply with a shrug. “We’re friends, I keep telling you that.”

“Sure,” Peter nods. 

“Why do you even care?”

“Because I just do.”

“Peter, you’re so stubborn,” I shake my head. My shoulders drop. “I don’t have feelings for John. Trust me. It’s hard for me to believe that this is the only reason why you came here. You must have some ulterior motive.”

“Look, do you really want to know the truth?” Peter raises his voice. He stands in front of me. Suddenly, I’m standing too. He steps closer to me, but we’re too close. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. The room is so quiet and still that I can almost hear his heartbeat. Oh wait, it’s mine. And it’s beating fast.

“Enlighten me, Kavinsky,” I challenge. I look up at him with a straight face. His jaw is clenched, emphasizing his perfectly chiseled features.

“I came here to get you back, Covey!” Kavinsky says. He throws his arms dramatically in the air then rubs his temple. “Isn’t it obvious? God, I know you’ve never had a boyfriend before me but take the fucking hint! I love you, Lara Jean!”

I swallow the lump in my throat. I look down at my feet. My heart is racing. I know he can hear it. I still love him, that I know for sure. But I can’t take him back under these circumstances. This isn’t the Peter I know, not the Peter I deserve. I deserve a boy that doesn’t just tell me how he feels, but rather shows me. Maybe that’s why relationships aren’t my thing. I expect too much. I give too much and receive too little. I wish I wasn’t such a hopeless romantic. Maybe then things would work out between me and Peter. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to break my own heart by rejecting the only boy who’s ever loved me. 

“But Gen—”

“This isn’t about Gen.” Peter shakes his head. He takes my hands in his. “This is about me and you.”

“Peter, I can’t…” My lip quivers as my voice shakes. I pull my hands back.

“Why not?” He asks loudly. 

I shake my head.

“Lara Jean, look at me.”

I shake my head again.

“Lara Jean.” He’s more stern this time.

“Because it’ll always be Gen,” I say softly. I take a deep breath. I don’t want to say it. But I have to. I look up at him, meeting his chocolate brown eyes. I can see the hurt in them, and I feel guilty for being the cause of it. His bushy brows are furrowed. “It was always about Gen during our fake relationship, and it was always her during our real one. It’s obvious you’re still in love with her. It’s not fair to the both of us. It’s not fair to me!” My voice cracks and my chest feels heavy.

“It isn’t like that!” Peter clenches his fists. Veins appear on his forearms. Through gritted teeth, he says, “God, I wish I could tell you everything. I really do.”

“So then tell me!” I’m yelling at this point, but I don’t want to be. I’ve never yelled at him before. I can feel tears in my eyes. His face is starting to blur. 

“Covey, you know I can’t.” He runs his hand through his damp hair and avoids my stare.

“You missed a lacrosse game to be with her,” I remind him. “You never miss any games! I doubt you’d skip a game if I was the one that needed you.” I poke my chest and let the tears trickle down my cheeks. I look straight at his chest. “I don’t know… if I can trust you anymore. I can’t be with someone who just expects me to take them back because they want me to. It doesn’t work like that. I deserve to be with someone who does so much more for me. I deserve to be with someone who’s all in.”

“All in,” Peter repeats.

I nod.

“So you’re saying you’d rather be with John?” Peter shoots back. “Because I know he’s all in for you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, Peter,” I say sternly. I wipe my face to rid of the tears because I know Peter isn’t going to do it. “You’re not listening to what I’m saying.”

“You’re not listening to me either!” Peter says. He shakes his head. He turns to face the open window. He lets the breeze cool him down as he takes a deep breath. He faces me again, muscles relaxed. He’s calmer now. And I’m more scared of this Peter than the angry one just a moment ago. “Forget it. I know I deserve you, Covey. I swear to god I do.”

I don’t reply. Is he really that egotistical that he still thinks I’ll be with him after all this? 

“You will be back in my arms, Lara Jean,” Peter’s voice is soft and confident. He spots the heart locket sprawled on my nightstand. He looks back at me. His face suddenly looks more hopeful than when he got here. “Whatever it takes.”

Peter says one last thing before exiting the window and disappearing into the night. “Happy seventeenth birthday, Covey.”

I fall back on my bed and sit there, stunned. I think I’ve lost my appetite. 

***

“Don’t wait up,” Kitty says the next morning when she enters the kitchen. She grabs a croissant from the pack on the counter. “Peter’s picking me up.”

“Oh?” I chew on my avocado toast. I reach into my cardigan pocket and hold my hand out to Kitty. With a mouthful, I say, “Could you give him this for me?”

“Sure,” Kitty shrugs. I drop the contents onto her hand, then she looks at it. “Your heart locket?”

I shake my head and correct her, “It’s not mine.”

“Are you sure you want to give this back?” Kitty gulps. She stares at the necklace. I know what she’s thinking. She shoves the necklace into her pocket. With a saddened expression on her face, she asks, “Why?”

“Well, we’re broken up, Kitty,” I explain. “And it doesn’t feel right wearing a necklace given to me by my ex-boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Kitty repeats. She pauses before saying, “If this is about Gen, you know they’re over, right?”

“Yeah, well, we’re over too,” I mumble. I tilt my head. “Huh. Gen. How do you know about that?”

“Peter told me.” Kitty shoves her croissant in her mouth and chews.

“He did?”

Kitty nods and replies after she swallows, “Yeah, we still talk. He told me what’s going on with her. It’s not what you think, Lara Jean.”

“Peter told you?” My eyebrows raise.

“Mhm.” Kitty nods again. “He’s not a bad guy. You know that.”

“Sure.” I nod. “He told you Gen’s situation even though when I asked him about it, he wouldn’t tell me? And I was his girlfriend. Ugh. The nerve of that guy.” I shake my head disappointedly. “Kitty, I don’t want you talking to him anymore.”

“You’re not the boss of me. I can be friends with whoever I want,” Kitty huffs.

“Fine, Kitty. Just… give him the necklace back.” I sigh in defeat. There’s no point in trying to talk her out of being friends with Peter. She’s too stubborn.

As if on cue, there’s a honk outside. 

At lunch, I sit with Chris and Lucas in the cafeteria. Chris and Lucas are arguing about last night’s episode of The Bachelor and my eyes scan the room. I don’t know why, because I know exactly what—or who, I’m looking for. My gaze lands on the popular kids’ table. Peter and his friends are there. Gen, too. I clench my jaw. Goddamn that Peter Kavinsky. Even if I had agreed to get back together with him, he would still be sitting there cozying up to Gen. I did the right thing, letting him go. No matter how much it hurts.

“My cousin bothering you again?” Chris asks when she realizes where my gaze is fixated.

“I wish I could be mad at her right now,” I say. I sigh. “It would be so easy to put the blame on her. But this one’s on Peter.”

“You know, I never liked that Kavinsky,” Chris says disapprovingly.

Lucas and I give her a ‘yeah, right’ look. We know she doesn’t mean that.

“Okay, fine. I do like him. He’s Kavinsky, for crying out loud! Everyone likes him.” Chris puts her arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder. “But I don’t like the fact that he broke my best friend’s heart.”

“Look at him,” Lucas says in disgust. “I can’t believe he’s not heartbroken by this.”

“Of course not. Gen has him whipped,” Chris replies. “I never liked them together. They’re always fighting and shit. It’s not healthy.”

While Gen throws her head back in laughter over something someone said, Peter turns and makes eye contact with me. It’s as if he could feel me staring. Fuck. Immediately, I look away and reach in my lunch bag. 

***

It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting out on the front porch, wrapped in my fuzzy robe and drinking my morning tea. The neighborhood is mostly quiet, with birds chirping and the occasional car driving around the cul-de-sac. I scroll through my Instagram feed and see some photos from the lacrosse game the other day. I quickly scroll past them. I know they won. They always do when Peter plays. Ugh. Peter. I shake the thought of him out of my head. 

I take a sip from my mug and cross my legs. 

“Oh, you’re out here,” Kitty’s standing at the front door with her hands behind her back. 

“What’s up?” I turn towards her. I put my mug down on the table beside me.

“Something came in the mail for you yesterday,” Kitty says. She places an envelope in my lap. On it, with boyish scribbling, is my name. My address isn’t on it, and neither is a return address. How could this have possibly been in the mail? Before I could ask Kitty, she runs inside. That sneaky little brat.

I recognize the penmanship, so I uncross my legs and take a deep breath before opening the envelope. Inside is a letter, which I begin to read with my heart lodged in my throat. 

Dear Lara Jean,

I don’t think anything I’ll ever do will ever live up to your expectations. But I’m willing to try. This is my first time writing a love letter to somebody, so please bear with me. You know I am no good with words or feelings. Especially when it comes to you.

You are so beautiful that flowers are jealous. Your smile shines so bright that the sun can’t compare. The world is better with you in it. My life is better because of you. Your existence makes the world of a difference.

I don’t regret kissing you in the seventh grade. I know you said it was unspecial as a first kiss could be, but not for me. I kissed you because I wanted my first kiss to be with a girl that I really liked. And that was you. 

Speaking of like, here are some things that I like about you:

Your hair. You’re already beautiful, but even more so when you wear your hair down. It’s so soft and flowy and I definitely noticed you stopped putting it in a ponytail because of me. I love how it frames your face, as if you’re a piece of artwork on display only for me.

You’re always so focused in class. Sometimes I stare at you while you’re deep in thought or scribbling in your notebook and I can’t help but smile. You’re so smart, I know you’ll do great things.

Unlike me, you never take the last slice of pizza. You always make sure to offer it to someone else. I need to take notes. 

You care so much about others, it’s inspiring. You never put yourself first even though you deserve it. That’s something else I can learn from you. I bet Stormy really appreciates you always visiting her. I bet Dr. Covey is so proud to have you as his daughter. I bet Chris is so thankful to have you in her life.

That’s all for now, because my hand is starting to cramp. If you want to know what else I like about you, you’ll just have to ask. I could go on and on and on just talking about you. Believe me. Trevor and Greg would know.

I hope you’ll find it in your heart to hear me out.

Hopefully and forever yours,  
Peter Kavinsky

P.S. I swear I didn’t copy any words I wrote. Everything in this letter is from my heart. 

I sigh and hold the letter to my heart. My first love letter. So this is how it feels. But what do I do now? His words make me feel mushy inside. This letter makes me want to forgive him. But still… should I? He sounds sincere, but they’re just words on a piece of paper. This doesn’t have to mean anything if I don’t want it to. 

Suddenly I hear a car approaching the cul-de-sac. When it comes into view, I realize it’s a car I’m very familiar with. Peter’s Jeep. And it’s heading for my driveway. Shit. I really don’t want to talk to him. Not when I’m once again confused on what to do. I stand up to go inside, but Peter’s already parked and he sees me. He calls after me, “Covey, wait.”

I curse under my breath and hesitantly turn around. Peter’s wearing a pale pink button-up and navy dress pants. His hands are deep in his pockets and his hair is gelled back. Why is he so dressed up on a Saturday morning?

“Hi, Peter,” I say, forcing a smile.

“I see you got my letter.” Peter points to the envelope in my hand.

“I did.”

“And?”

“What do you want me to say, Peter?” I sigh. “It’s just a letter. It’s not like it changes anything.”

“Just a letter,” Peter repeats. He bobs his head and purses his lips. He steps closer. “Then how come your letter to me changed everything?”

I stare at him with a blank expression on my face. He’s not wrong.

“Come on, Lara Jean. Everything in that letter is true.”

I look down at the envelope in my hand. I replay our fake and real relationship quickly through my head. I can see it so clearly, and it ended too soon. I wanted it to last longer. Maybe I still do.

“How did you feel when you read that letter?” Peter asks sincerely. 

Like my favorite potatoes, this question is loaded. I’m overwhelmed with feelings from that letter. Some bad, but mostly good. His presence definitely adds to the good feelings. And suddenly I’m sure of my decision. But I’m torn between telling him the truth or saving face. I hesitate when I answer, “Honestly? It felt like… I was… floating.”

“Is that… a good thing?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Oh.” Peter’s shoulders drop.

“Not a good thing for me, at least,” I continue. I bite my lip as I search for the right words to say. I take a deep breath. “For you… it’s… a good thing.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Mhm.” I nod. I sigh and scrunch my forehead. “Look, Peter, I can’t deny that I still have feelings for you. And… you’re right.” I hold up the envelope. “It’s not just a letter.” 

“It’s not?” He sounds hopeful.

“It’s more than that,” I say. I reach for his hands. “The fact that you actually wrote this for me makes me feel warm inside. It makes me feel… cared for. You’re no good with words. Yet you still tried… for me. And I can’t just brush that off like it’s nothing.”

“Good. Because it isn’t nothing,” Peter replies, swaying our hands absentmindedly. “I would do anything for you as long as it makes you happy. I hope you know that.”

I gulp and nod, “I’m starting to realize that now.”

“Okay. So we still have feelings for each other.” Peter pauses. “Where do we go from here?”

“I still have my doubts and insecurities about Gen,” I confess. If we’re going to try this again, I want to lay all my cards out on the table. I don’t want any secrets between us.

“I know,” Peter nods, “and I have my suspicions about John Ambrose McClaren. So we’re even.” 

“Right now, all I know is that we’re here with each other, not with them,” I muse. “It took me a while to realize that if you really wanted to be with Gen, you would be with her and not with me. You wouldn’t be trying to get me to take you back.”

“I’m glad you realize that now,” Peter says. He pulls me closer to him. I stare into his chest. He touches his lips to my forehead. “And I realize that you spending time with John was because I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. I rest my head on his chest. “You know I don’t expect you to cut all ties with Gen. I get that you’re friends with her. I respect that. But you need to respect me enough to tell me the truth about her.”

“I do respect you,” Peter assures me. He pries me off of him and lifts my chin carefully to meet my eyes. “But can we not talk about her anymore? I don’t want to ruin this moment.”

“What moment?”

“This one,” Peter replies. He reaches into his chest pocket and holds his hand out in front of me. My heart locket! My breath hitches. I turn around. He wraps the necklace around my neck and clasps it. I put my hand on the locket. 

“Oh, Peter.” I sigh, entranced. I push my bottom lip forward when I face him again. 

“I told you it’s yours,” Peter says. “Much like my heart.”

This boy never fails to make my heart flutter. Did I really think about cutting him out of my life? 

We stare at each other for a whole three seconds before Peter leans in and presses his lips against mine. What starts out as an innocent kiss of reunion turns into a hungry, passionate one. I’ve never been kissed like this before. Like his life depended on it. Like he missed me. It reminded me of the hot tub kiss, but more intimate, more urgent. 

When we part, smiles linger on our faces.

“So now that’s out of the way,” I say, catching my breath, “what’s with your outfit?”

“Oh, right!” Peter’s smile widens.

“What?”

“I’m taking you on a date for your birthday.” 

“My birthday was days ago.”

“Yeah, but we were broken up. I want to make it up to you.” Peter tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Now please go get dressed. I think Kitty’s picked out something nice for you to wear.”

“I knew she was up to something,” I mutter. “But fine, I won’t ask any questions. I’ll let you take me out.”

“I know you don’t think so,” Peter pecks my lips, then smiles dreamily, “but I’m all in, Covey.”


End file.
